nerves held out, the more dados would go down.
“They are doing it,” Alder declared. “They are waiting. We may have a chance.”
The first line of dados hit the beach. They didn’t jump off their skimmers and dive into the sand to protect themselves.
Just the opposite. They all looked to one another as if making sure they had arrived safely, then casually got off their skimmers and began to walk toward the village. There was no tension. No fear. No battle readiness whatsoever. The dados with guns didn’t even take aim. They held them casually, pointing at the sky.
It was perfect.
“Now,” I growled, hoping somebody would be bold and fire the first arrow.
Nobody did. More dados landed on the beach and followed the others toward Rayne.
“Why aren’t they shooting?” Genj cried. “Something is wrong.”
“Either that,” I said, “or those guys have more guts than we gave them credit for.”
The dados kept coming. More and more landed and amassed on the beach. Soon there would be multiple hundreds, and it would be too late for the arrows to have any effect. Just as I was beginning to think our plan had failed…
The first dado exploded. I mean, exploded. It happened so suddenly, we all jumped in surprise. The arrow was totally silent. The first sign that anything had happened was that a dado in the middle of the first line found himself in pieces all over the beach. The others stopped and looked around in confusion. Or at least in as much confusion as a robot can show. They had no idea what happened. Seconds later a dozen more dados exploded in white hot flashes, raining parts onto the sand.
Alder said, “They do not understand what is happening.” I heard excitement in his voice. I felt it myself. Was it possible? Did we stand a chance?
The archers fired steadily. The explosions were deafening.
One after the other, dados were blasted to bits. Smoke filled the beach. I worried that it would hurt the aim of the archers, but it didn’t matter. There were so many dados, even if an arrow missed one, and then another, it would eventually hit something.
Finally the dados took cover. They dove to the ground and crawled forward in the sand. It didn’t matter. That didn’t stop the archers. They continued to fire, blasting them into shrapnel. Flying bits of burning dado did as much damage to the other dados as the arrows themselves. More dados arrived on the beach, stepping into the metal grinder. They fell by the dozens. Dados from the rear had to step over their fallen buddies to move forward, only to be blasted into oblivion themselves. The whole scene took on a surreal quality, like time was slowing down. I’d never seen anything like it before and hoped I never would again.
Thing were going very well… until the dados began fighting back.
The dados with weapons stopped advancing. They took cover behind the wreckage of the first to fall, and started firing. I heard the familiar fum, fum, fum of their guns. These were definitely weapons from Quillan. On Quillan these weapons fired a burst of energy that incapacitated whoever got shot. Here on Ibara it looked like the weapons packed more punch. Trees exploded. Sand blew into the air.
Archers died.
I saw three different archers fall. I only knew they were dead because the runners who went to examine them would take their bows and arrows. That was their mission. Take the weapons from those who could no longer use them. The battle had become all too real.
The explosions slowed, because the archers were being more cautious. Being shot at will do that. Still, the archers kept taking out dados. The beach was chaos, but their line was holding. The dados who were still on the water were having trouble getting to shore. There were too many skimmers in their way. And dado parts. It looked like a macabre junkyard. But they kept coming. And coming. The bay was filled with skimmers. Many more waited out in the ocean for their turn to enter. The dados weren’t done. Not even close. They crawled, inch by inch up the beach, moving closer to the first line of archers.
My biggest fear was that we would run out of arrows.
“We’re going to have to pull back the first line,” Alder declared.
“Do it now,” I said. “They’ve got to be running low on arrows. Get them back.”
We sent off another runner to deliver that message. The second line hadn’t fired a single arrow. Moving the first line back would mean an infusion of fresh ammo, and archers. It took several minutes for the runner to reach the forward line. He gave the message to the archer directly in the center, who signaled those to his side. Word passed quickly and the archers started moving back.
It was a bad move. As soon as they started to move, so did the dados. It was as if they knew they had a window, and they took it. They unleashed a barrage of fire at the archers, hitting several. A few archers made it back to the second line, but the dados kept coming. They fired mercilessly. Huts were blasted and set on fire. Trees toppled. The second line of archers could barely get off any arrows. By the time they were able to start firing, dozens of archers lay dead or wounded, and the leading edge of the village was on fire.
The tone of the battle had changed. The archers were now playing defense.
“It is a nightmare” Genj muttered.
Alder grabbed the last runner and screamed, “Get them behind the third line.”
The runner took off instantly.
“We need the protection of the tunnel,” Alder declared. “The battle will be won or lost by the third line.”
Smoke rose over the village. Fires burned. Bodies were everywhere. I felt as if I were looking at the future of Halla. Was this what Saint Dane had in store for the other territories? Was he going to march on the Milago village? On the barge city of Magorran? We fought dados in the subway on First Earth. Was Saint Dane already smuggling them to Earth?
The runner made it to the second line safely and passed the word to retreat. This time the archers moved back more cautiously, shooting arrows as they retreated. I was getting used to the sound of the explosions. Or maybe I was just numb. At least the explosions meant more dados were done. It was the fum from the Quillan weapons that made my skin crawl. That meant archers were in their sights.
The retreat went well. As soon as the first and second lines got behind the line of underground archers, a storm of arrows flew. There were so many explosions together that I thought my eardrums had popped. The village lit up again and again. I saw pieces of dado flying everywhere. It was the most intense barrage since the water guns had opened fire out on the ocean. The underground archers were protected and didn’t let up. The dados didn’t know where to shoot. The archers unloaded on them.
You know what the grand finale is like at a fireworks display? That’s the best way I can describe what was happening in the village. The explosions came on top of one another. Over and over, relentlessly pounding the dados. There was so much smoke I couldn’t see the water anymore. Still the explosions kept coming.
I glanced at the tribunal. They watched the display, stone faced, with tears in their eyes.
Genj shook his head sadly. “How could life have gone so wrong?”
I knew why. The answer was flying somewhere over the smoke, looking down on the carnage. I began to imagine that each of the explosions was like a shot fired directly at Saint Dane. I hoped it hurt.
As quickly as it began, the barrage stopped. I hoped they weren’t out of arrows. At that moment there was nothing to see but smoke. The archers may have decided to let the smoke clear to survey what they’d done. Of course, the dados would be doing the same thing.
“That is the most we can throw at them,” Alder said. “When the smoke clears, we will know if it was enough.”
I stepped away from the window. I needed a break. I could only imagine how the brave archers down below felt. I walked to the map on the wall. I realized that even if the dados were turned back, Rayne would be changed. A good third of the village would be in ruins. I looked at the drawing of the tunnel that ran beneath the village. If we won, it would be because of that tunnel.
“The smoke is clearing,” Drea announced.
I hurried back to the window to see that the slight, onshore tropical breeze was blowing the smoke off the battlefield.
“The invaders can’t have survived that,” Genj said. “Can they?”
“We’ll know soon enough,” I replied.
The smoke cleared. What we saw was both horrifying… and beautiful. From the tunnel to the shore, nothing
